Becoming A Vincent (The Wild Ones 1)

My arms wrap around his neck, and he tugs me closer, kissing my cheek. “Decision made that I couldn’t get past either betrayal, I moved out here to escape all that. Instead, found somewhere I actually belong.”

His eyes meet mine again, and I brush my hand along his jaw, feeling that soft hair there.

“I’m sorry. I had no clue.”

He gives me a grim smile. “I didn’t want anyone knowing. You’re the first person I’ve told since moving out here. I’d appreciate it if it stayed between us.”

I mime the motion of zipping my lips, and he smiles again, a real one this time.

“I’m an awesome secret keeper,” I remind him.

His eyes narrow playfully. “I know. You never would tell me that it was your brothers who sank my canoe.”

Because it wasn’t my brothers. It was me. I didn’t mean to shoot it. I was aiming at the damn woodpecker that was making my life hell, but tripped over my boot’s untied shoelace as I fired the shot.

But, since I’m an awesome secret keeper, I keep that to myself and just grin at him.

“What happened between your brother and your ex?” I ask before I can stop myself.

That small bit of humor dies. “Nothing. My brother wasn’t actually the father. That was just Sadie’s way of tearing us apart by getting him to confess he’d screwed her behind my back. The baby belonged to another guy who eventually married her. But Sadie’s marriage ended this past year.”

I nod, even though I don’t know why I’m nodding. I guess I’m not sure what else to say.

“One more thing,” I say, prompting him to sigh.

“I think I’ve told you most of the drama that is my family. I don’t really feel like saying more about it today.”

I shake my head. “How do you make your money? I’ve Googled Benson Nolans a thousand times, and nothing ever pops up on you.”

His grin instantly returns. “You’ve Googled me a thousand times?”

I nod, unashamed.

“I admit that I was mostly curious about what you looked like without a horrible beard—obviously this was before you lost it.”

He chuckles under his breath.

“That’s because I legally changed my name to Nolans before moving here. That was my grandmother’s maiden name. My father hasn’t been in the picture for a really long time, and that name would have pulled up some interesting things, if anyone from Tomahawk got curious and started asking questions.”

“Why would you care?” I ask, confused.

He grins broader. “Because this is Tomahawk.”

I groan as he laughs.

“Then what’s your real name?”

He stands, putting me on my feet, before tugging my hand in his.

“My real name is Benson Nolans. It’s the only name I care about. Everything before this version of me feels like a different person in a different life.”

“You’re not going to tell me, are you?” I ask as he starts guiding me upstairs.

He turns his head and flashes that devilishly perfect smile at me.

“The secret to being a bore is to tell someone everything.”

When I groan again, he laughs, practically dragging me up the stairs to his bedroom.

I suddenly don’t give a damn about his past when he presently starts kissing me stupid. I sigh into his mouth, too content to let this moment slip away, when his arms come around my waist and lift me so that he doesn’t have to bend.

He lowers me to the bed before undressing me, and I push his clothes off him as fast as I can. I’m almost crazy with need when he finally pushes into me.

His lips stay on mine as his lazy thrusts do unpredictably awesome things to my body. I never knew how right something could feel.

In this moment, everything is perfect.

Chapter 13

Wild Ones Tip #842

We’re fucking crazy. Your crazy will never beat our crazy, because we’re competitive.

LILAH

“You two are simply adorable,” Evette Dickens says as I put some grapes into the shopping cart.

“Thanks,” I tell her sweetly, letting Benson tug me to his side.

Evette’s daughter is eyeing him, even though she’s only sixteen. I admit, I totally get it. Benson is hot, and the world is starting to take notice that he’s also awesome.

I still hiss at her like a rabid cat when she bites her bottom lip suggestively.

Evette’s eyes widen, and her daughter pales, probably remembering I’m one of the four corners of crazy in Tomahawk for a reason.

Evette starts urging her daughter along as I chuckle to myself. Benson shakes his head, not even commenting on the fact I hissed. Then again, it’s probably the least crazy thing he’s witnessed me do.

We barely make it to the frozen goods, when we’re abruptly cut off by Janice Holland, local busybody.

“I heard you two had finally crossed that threshold into couple-dom. How are your brothers handling it?” she asks me, not bothering with small talk, since she’s looking for something juicy to share about our corner.